


What happened to your eyes?

by zematerid



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zematerid/pseuds/zematerid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gee,” she began. “I’d really love to know myself, but let’s just say that I’ve been this way for as long as I’ve been walking and, to be honest, if I start pulling out my medical records, the next thing you’ll be asking me is ‘Do you ever shut up?’”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What happened to your eyes?

**Author's Note:**

> Toph and Zuko are in college. It's not said what year are they, but they still have an age gap, although maybe not as much as the one in canon. They have some classes together, hence they meet, hope that clears it up!

“What happened to your eyes?”

The first time she hears that, she doesn’t understand why her classmates had followed it with a laugh. Was there something she didn’t get? Did her eyes look that ridiculous? At times like these she wished she could see. She wished she was gifted, like everyone else was. She didn’t understand why people wanted to avoid her. She didn’t understand why people didn’t want to talk to her. She didn’t understand other people’s disgust at the sight of her eyes, how uneasy it made them, how nerve-wracking her stare was. Their nervousness was so apparent, that she could almost hear it at the roll of their tongue, asking her…

 

* * *

“What happened to your face?”

They would ask. They always did. They would try to sound sympathetic, kind, curious. They’d probe, poke, clutter your mind and your ears with their questions. They would come to him, ask him, be friends with him.

Yet, he knew better.

When you tend to keep things to yourself, people like to create stories of their own to make-up for the lack of information you fail to supply them. They let their imagination run wild at every oddity that they see on the streets. That guy passed out on the sidewalk? He’s just probably hung-over, heartbroken, or depressed. What about that girl screaming on her phone? Probably a lover’s quarrel, family feud, business deal gone wrong. And who was that guy walking around campus with half his face burnt off?

Suddenly everyone wants to know his story.

It was at times like these that he wished he was no different than anyone else. He was getting sick and tired of hearing the same questions over and over again, in varying forms, yet containing one single idea. People are always curious, they can never help themselves but ask…

* * *

 

“What happened to your face?”

The first time she hears that, she does a double take. Was that directed at her? It sounded like it, but she didn’t think so, seeing how the voice was so far away from her anyways. When she passed by the hallway, books in hand, she hears a question so close yet so far from the ones in her memories. She remembered herself, as a young child, sitting quietly at the park bench as the rest of the kids from her class joyfully play around in what sounded like a very fun game of tag. She hung her head low, listening to the squeals of the girls and the returning taunts of the boys, and shielded her eyes so as to refuse her tears from glistening in the sun.

She heard footsteps slowly approaching her- gentle, kind, friendly footsteps. Whoever it was knelt in front of her, took her hand, and in the kindest voice she has ever heard in her life, asked.

“Hey, sweetheart, why aren’t you playing with the others in the playground?”

Her head still bowed, she shook it slightly. She said, “They find me weird.”

“That’s alright, children are like that.” The lady smiled, gripping her hand tighter in reassurance. “Don’t worry about it, just play with them. Next thing you know, you’re the best of friends. The world changes, everything changes. A lot can change with a simple game of tag.”

“I really do want to join them, but they don’t like me.” She cried. “They don’t like my eyes.”

“Why, what’s wrong with your-“

Yet, just before the lady could finish her sentence, she slowly raised her head, unknowingly staring right into the eyes of the woman. The brightness of the sun bounced off of her eyes, making it even paler than it was. It was ghostly, the sight of it made other people’s skin crawl. No matter how much it unnerved them for her to stare at her, they couldn’t help but stare back.

“Oh my god,” she had said, and that’s when it all started. “What..”

* * *

“What happened to your eyes?”

The moments the words slipped from his lips, he wished he had kicked himself in the balls instead. _Stupid! Idiot!_ He chanted to himself. _I can’t believe you would say that to her._ He gulped guiltily, looking left and right but at her eyes. Yet she continued to stare at him, and so he couldn’t help but stare right back. Her eyes were pale. Green. Lifeless. Although the way that she smirked, raised her eyebrows, and laughed showed him that it was anything but.

“Gee,” she began. “I’d really love to know myself, but let’s just say that I’ve been this way for as long as I’ve been walking and, to be honest, if I start pulling out my medical records, the next thing you’ll be asking me is _‘Do you ever shut up?’_ ”

She had a snarky attitude. Leaning on the countertop, she toyed with one of the vials, tipping them over and rolling it under the palm of her hand. She wore her hair in a messy bun, far too many strays falling all over her little face. Was she supposed to be in college? But he had a feeling he shouldn’t ask that.

“I’m Zuko.” He said

“I’m Toph.” She replied. “And I suck at this class.”

A dozen experiments failed and succeeded, a passing mark, and a few months of still not getting how to do chemistry, he figured that having her as a partner wasn’t so bad after all. He would stare at her, carefully reading the way her eyes moved with her emotions, telling him stories he didn’t know it was even able capable of doing. He would look at her, and she would look at him, and that was the thing that he enjoyed most. She would not utter a single word, seemingly unfazed by the apparently huge scar that has eaten most of his face. And he would not utter a single word, for he had the tact of a decent, normal, functioning human being (despite ultimately failing the first time around). There was nothing bad about this arrangement, nothing at all, for she was blind and he was scarred, yet no words were needed to be said about their differences. He could finally breathe, because she would never ask him…

* * *

“What happened to your eyes?”

This time, it was not an accident. She looked at him, or tried to, she was finding it rather hard to locate where he was since he was in god knows which room.

“I thought I told you already?” She said in a slightly raised voice. God, he could be in the room right next to where she was, and she didn’t even know which one.

“I’m in the kitchen.” Yes, he always (almost always) gets what she’s thinking. “It’s 2 doors to your right.”

She picked up her cane, which she so rarely used, and started to slide it across the ground. She walked slowly, feeling the walls and trying to locate said doors. She hated using her cane, because it made her feel vulnerable and dependent (although it made for great self-defense weapons). Unlike the campus that she had memorized over the years of living there, this place was completely unfamiliar to her. She had to walk with a cane. She had to know which room went here, where it was connected, where things were located, where the doors were. Sometimes, when she isn’t careful, she’ll slam herself into the door frame, stub her toe, kick a table leg. It’s happened numerous times, too many to count, yet she didn’t mind. Someone was always there to guide her back, to treat her toe, to fix the table. When she wakes up in the morning, she’ll feel warmth on her back, a breath upon her cheek, and despite not being a morning person, she’d smile.

Hanging her cane on the wall, she leaned against the door frame. She stood there quietly, listening to what sounded like him chewing something; probably eating the sandwich she called ‘abomination’. It was a mix of PB&M, honest mistake. By the sound of his rigorous eating, however, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You asked,” she began. “What happened to my eyes?”

“Yes.” He seemed to say, because his voice was muffled by whatever it was in his mouth. “You never told me of your parents either, or where you lived, or what you used to do. You know, that kind of thing.”

“Eh, there’s not much to tell.” She scratched her nose, shuffling every once in a while.  “I was blind since birth, and that’s about it. My parents are workaholics and can’t spare a single moment for their superbly spoiled daughter who ran away with some junkie.” She laughed. “Well, okay, maybe it isn’t that bad, but seriously speaking, they’re normal, cool parents.”

She lied.

Of course, she lied.

She was Toph Beifong, heiress to the Beifong industries. Who didn’t know her? Well, rather, who knew her? Surprisingly, even with parents who were so influential in the corporate world, only a handful of people knew of her existence. He didn’t even know who she was until he had that rather embarrassing first meeting in that dingy old science laboratory  6 years ago.

“Are you seriously going to make me believe that?” He asked.

“Well…” She shrugged. “I guess I tried.”

“You can tell me.” He said. “I just can’t see how we lived together for a year already and I still don’t know who you are, or where you come from, things like that. So far, so good, right? But we can’t live on that alone. I need to know you. _All_ of you.”

“Why? I never asked you about _your_ own tragic backstory.” She countered. “What’s with you, anyways? What’s all this? Why are you only asking me now? It definitely didn’t bother you a year ago when you said that we should live together.”

“Toph…” He sighed. “This isn’t about me right now, okay? And I wasn’t even the one who invited you, you literally crashed here, or were you too drunk to remember that?”

She clicked her tongue. Grabbing her cane from the wall, she made her way towards him, using the awful sounds he made from chewing the so-called ‘abomination’ and getting revenge by smacking his shins hard. He winced, and she grinned momentarily before settling herself by his side.

“Well, it’s probably going to bore you to death. It’s a long story.” She said.

“It’s alright.” He smiled. “I’ve heard worse.”

He had, definitely, heard worse. Years of solitude and hiding from the public had made her develop this unique personality, one he’d never really seen from other people before. She had this fire in her, yet she stayed rooted to the ground. It seems that although her parents had shielded her from the outside world, there was no stopping her from finding the answers her own ways, through her own means. She was strong, resolute, brave. She had that rebellious streak akin to teenagers undergoing teenage crisis, yet it seemed that even though she was near becoming 20, she had still not outgrown that part of her life.

She hated her parents. She really did. She, he quotes, had even said that ‘ _if only I had the chance to smack their heads every time I wanted them to see the sense in something, they’d have broken their skulls eons ago.”_ Yet, even with their numerous flaws and obviously unhealthy obsession of protecting their daughter, she still loved them. Sure, they grew ballistic when she said she was moving out and moving in with some guy they didn’t even know (a guy, who they later found out, was the son of a rival company, which they, he quotes again, ‘ _grew totally batshit crazy about’_ ).

There were a few others, too; her mother forcing her to wear overly girly dresses, her father not allowing her to be outside for more than a few minutes every day, the conferences, the meetings, the discipline, the high social life. At this point of her tale-telling, he just smiled. They seemed like things any other girl would complain about (and which, would make his ears bleed), but because this was Toph, everything was much clearer to him. He was glad that he asked her, even if it meant her possibly hating him for even asking her. It seemed like this part of her life was the one she was the least enthusiastic about sharing, but he was thankful for her telling him when he asked.

He would never tell her that he asked because he was insecure of his own capabilities of understanding her. He knew that there’d be a time when he would insult her, and it would only frustrate him to know why she’d get so upset, and it would upset her because she can’t see why it’s so hard to make him understand. At least, now that he knows, he’d see the errors of his ways (because she would never admit her own).

An hour has passed and she still hasn’t finished. I guess there’s something new to learn of a person every day.

* * *

“What’s wrong with your face?”

This time, it was her who asked. It happened one night as they were walking along the sidewalk. He held her hands to guide her, and she let herself be led, even though she was well aware of the fact that she could easily get by on her own. She had asked him, completely out of the blue, and he stopped for a moment.

“Huh?” He asked. “Why the sudden question?”

“I heard about it from a couple of girls that decided the bathroom made for a great conference hall.” She replied. “I figured I never really knew about it. I guess it’s payback time for when you grilled me about my own tragic backstory, huh? Now it’s time for yours.”

She bumped against him, laughing as she shared what she heard, yet he only listened. He hummed, half in acknowledgement, and half in the silence that followed. They continued to walk, completely unsure of where their final destination was, but both unwilling to stop. He spotted a bench right next to a playground, where they sat.

“It’s a long story.” He said.

“We have all night.” She (attempted to) raised her hand and ruffled his head; yet being short had its down side, so she ended up giving a rather unwelcomed slap on his shoulder instead. He didn’t dare retort in the fear of getting another slap, this time, on purpose.

He spent the night recounting memories he had long since forgotten, and memories he had tried to forget. He spoke of pain, of suffering, of lonely nights in the hospital, wondering if his mother had made it out alive after the fire ravaged his home and crippled his whole family. He remembered the way his father had hit him, the torment his sister gave him, and the memories of his mother’s sweet and gentle embrace being the only thing that kept him from going over the brink of sanity. He told her of his uncle that he loved so much, who was more of a father figure than his own father could ever hope to be.

She listened to him- laughing at the funny parts, holding her tongue when needed, giving affirmative nods to let him know he wasn’t alone. She knew just when he needed a pat in the back, a caress of her hand on his, and a smile. Not once did she say she was sorry, and not once did she tell him he was weak. She had asked, and she accepted the answer. And he was glad that he had waited so long for the right person to come along.

In one night he felt that he had told his whole life’s story. He felt that he had said too much, yet too little. However when he gathered up the courage to look at her straight in the eyes, he knew, somehow, that he had told her just enough. She smiled at him, little crow’s feet dangling at the sides of her eyes, weary from giving away far too many sarcastic grins and tantalizing smiles that a certain guy with a husky voice, and unusually warm skin (even in the winter) just couldn’t resist. Through her eyes, she said a wordless thank you, and she held his hands, leaned forward, and kissed his chin (when they both knew she was really aiming for his lips.)

He laughed, she laughed, yet at least the second time around, she finally got it right.

**Author's Note:**

> (EDIT: LOL. I just realized. I seem to have a thing for endings being in kisses. God self, keep it together, your inner romanticist is showing!!)
> 
> And this work just shows how much I suck at titles, no? And don't get me started on the summaries since typically I just get interesting bits from the works itself (I'm lazy, yes).
> 
> Hey and hi! This fic is one that's been on the works for quite a while. I actually started this (finished it, more like) one day like a few months ago, but I never got to publishing it because I couldn't help feeling like it just wasn't enough. However, I do think I've done enough so, here it is!
> 
> To be honest, this was made because of my love for plot bunnies that had recurring themes and lines as a way to connect different scenes, so I quickly drafted something, didn't expect it to become so long though. This is not really centered much on drama or comedy or romance in particular, just something I made as a thank you for the support and love that I got from my previous fic. I think that one in particular was nicely done, so I hope I created something that could be loved as much as the previous one had been. That's probably asking for too much, so I just hope that in the end this fic has made Toko fans very happy (we need more toko fics, please!).
> 
> I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading!


End file.
